The wind was strong, and the jungle thick. The sweltering heat gave the soldiers of Lukon, Portion and Oritolon pause. Some had survived the horrors of Irdalni's jungles before. Some only knew it by reputation... And the open spots in the ranks of returning armies. The natives were insane, and very hostile to outsiders. This particular day though, they marched with ill placed confidence. Suddenly the jungle erupted with noise. Honking geese, screams of passion and ecstasy, and bloodcurdling cries of those eager to spill blood. The soldiers of the Dominion erupted from their hiding places. Arrows flew, but few found their marks in the thick canopy, and even more missed due to the howling wind.
Mordiggian roared, herding his men towards the enemy. A few suffered wounds from unlucky arrows, and they crashed into Archon's Armadillos. Men hacked and slashed, and Mordiggian's Ravenous Ghouls let loose feral cries as the enemy died beneath their blades. Mordiggian waded into the fray, taking a man's head clean off with his axe. He whirled about, and beheld his target. He swung his axe in a vicious arc, and it bit clean into the side of Archon Shepard. Mordiggian pulled the man towards him and ripped off the Oritolonese knight's helmet.
"THE MAD DOG'S BITE IS WORSE THAN HIS BARK!" Mordiggian roared into his face, before kicking him off of his axe. Mordiggian raised his axe to deliver the finishing blow, but one of Archon's Armadillos threw himself in the way, dying atop his commander, who managed to crawl free.
"TAKE THEIR SKULLS FOR XITRIX!" Mordiggian roared, and the Ghouls pushed into the Armadillos, killing more in their wake. They pushed through into the last fourteen men of Ikrif Fist, alongside the Harbingers. They slaughtered the pathetic group, only one of the Ghouls sustaining a wound as they fought through. Mordiggian stomped on the skull of a dying infantryman, and spied another target. Oiron Camlann was attempting to evade the slaughter of his men, pushing past his squire to retreat. Mordiggian charged past the squire, shoulder checking him as he went past. Mordiggian swung with the flat of his axe, knocking the Knight to the ground. Oiron rolled over, swinging his blade wildly. The heavily armored form of Mordiggian shrugged off the blow, and he thrust the spear point of his axe's handle down into the squirming Knight.
"WEAKLING WORM! DEPENDENT ON CHARITY TO SURVIVE!" Mordiggian roared through his helmet at the man, twisting the axe, eliciting a scream from the Knight. A sword rang off Mordiggian's back, the blow failing to pierce his armor. The Reaver turned, and beheld the frightened form of Oiron's squire. He roared and tore the axe free, and swung the axe in a vertical arc, cleaving the squire into two equal, bloody halves.
"LOTHOS CLAIMS THIS SOUL! INTO DARKNESS YOU GO!" Mordiggian, covered in gore, roared. He turned to finish off his prey, only to notice the Oritolonese Knight had fled. Mordiggian roared and kicked at his men to get them moving again, and they broke through the front lines and into the ranks of Archon's Armadillos again, who were in the process of falling back. More Armadillos fell before the Ghouls, and soon they retreated.
Mordiggian and the Ghouls roared in triumph, and were met with a hail of arrows, wounding the last of Mordiggian's combat capable men. A last arrow found a joint in Mordiggian's armor, digging into his shoulder. Mordiggian ripped the projectile out, and wandered his way off the battlefield.
"Let them have the field. We have had the greater fill of blood than they today." Mordiggian growled.
